


What am I missing?

by Leuven



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Heartache, Heartbreak, Love, M/M, More tags as we move along!, Surprise calls, Unexpected Visits, overeager fans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22954081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leuven/pseuds/Leuven
Summary: Marc shows up unexpectedly at Bernd's door in London; the more time they spend together, the further away Marc seems to be. What or whom might be behind his strange behaviour?
Relationships: Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. An unexpected visit

**Author's Note:**

> This idea had been going around my brain for quite a few weeks and it finally took form. I am going through a bit of a tough time so this really helped take it out and feel better; I promise we will have a happy ending, trust me!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think in the form of kudos, comments, suggestions, everything is so much welcome.
> 
> Have a wonderful day every single one of you :D

One evening, Marc had unexpectedly shown up at his door; Bernd had barely been able to believe his eyes and threw himself at his boyfriend to cover him in kisses. Marc looked rather pale and had blamed the flight and the current situation at Barcelona for his current state of tiredness.

Bernd of course believed him and kept hugging and kissing him for a few more minutes, totally confident of the healing power of his blinding love for his wonderful boyfriend. The first day had literally flown away in a swirl of kisses, smiles and caresses; Bernd’s heart had melted as soon as he had seen his boyfriend’s face a few hours ago, however, the more time they spent together, the more uneasy he was starting to feel. Marc was exhausted, tired to a point he had never seen in his hyperactive and always over excited boyfriend.

Realization came that in the 2 days they had been together Marc had hardly smiled and the few times he had done so it had felt more like an obligation or a gesture towards Bernd than an actual honest smile. After two days of no training and having been pampered non-stop by his boyfriend, Marc still looked pale and rather tired and Bernd started suspecting there was something else that he was not seeing. Was Marc sick? He would have said something right? Also the team would have not allowed him to travel should that be the case, so at some point Bernd just tried to reassure himself by telling himself once and again that his boyfriend was incredibly tired and just needed some more rest.   
  
The more time they spent together, the weirder things were getting. Marc was jumpy and unfocused and seemed to hardly listen to anything Bernd said; he continued with his determination of taking care of his boyfriend even if he was not making it very easy. Give it time, Bernd had repeated himself for the umpteenth time, just give it time.   
  
After the third day things seemed to keep going a little bit worse, they had shared a bed for three full nights and they had hardly touched each other. At some point he had expected things to change and be able to enjoy some wonderful slow sex with his gorgeous boyfriend, however, Marc hadn’t seemed interested in the slightest. Every night they would go to bed at the same time and when Bernd tried to hold him in his arms, Marc would always give him a quick kiss goodnight to then turn his back on him and go to sleep; he had really tried not to dwell on the emptiness and coldness feeling that much but at this point Marc’s rejection felt truly painful.   
  
One morning Bernd woke up to the wind blowing some angry rain against the windows of his room and to an empty bed. He reached out to the spot next to him only to find cold sheets and the feeling of another disappointing night of restless sleep had settled right in his chest. He got up when he heard noise in the kitchen and flew downstairs to find Marc rummaging in one of the cupboards; Bernd came closer to his boyfriend and held him from behind. Marc screamed and pushed him away with an expression of real panic in his eyes; Bernd looked deeply confused and slightly hurt.   
“Im so sorry love” Marc was fully out of breath “you scared me; I’m so sorry Bernd I...”   
He looked seriously shaken so Bernd tried to move on quickly: “you’re soaked love” Marc forced an unconvincing smile “yeah I went for a run earlier and it just started raining like crazy. I’ll have a shower before I freeze”   
“Do you fancy some tea?”   
“I’m actually fine, thanks” And with that he quickly left for the bathroom.   
Bernd was honestly crushed at this point and felt totally helpless, what was he missing? Fortunately or unfortunately, he didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it since he had to leave for training in the next few minutes so he dragged his body back to the room only to secretly witness a baffling scene. As soon as he reached the bathroom he heard Marc quietly speaking on the other side of the door, which was ajar, giving Bernd the chance to peek inside. More than speaking on the phone Marc was actually speaking to his phone which he held with shaking hands…” I fucking told you to stop messaging….why won’t you stop”; he threw the phone against the floor and Bernd waited for a shattering noise that never came, the phone landed violently on some forgotten towels on one of the bathroom corners. Marc turned around which forced Bernd to move at lightspeed to avoid being seen; what the hell was all that about? Who was that and why would Marc be so keen on them to stop messaging him?   
  
The morning went on pretty quickly, thank the heavens for his teammates, you could always rely on them to steal a smile from you even in your darkest days, and this was one of the worst. In the relatively ok state he was currently in, he tried not to overthink things and tried to figure out a way in which he could comfort Marc and show him that no matter what, he was always going to be there for him so he went for something that never failed to make his boyfriend happy. He made a stop on his way home and got a present for Marc, this would definitely make his day.   
As soon as he arrived home, he realized Marc wasn’t there so he took his time to set everything up and put the little bouquet of red roses, Marc’s favourites, in a glass jar on the living room table. From his room he heard Marc come in and smiled to himself thinking of the wonderful expression he would see on Marc’s face; when he was silently walking down the stairs he heard the crashing sound of class breaking against the floor and Marc quietly sobbing…”no...not again no…”. Bernd looked at him with wide eyes, Marc had a bleeding cut on his hand and looked horrified as if he had literally just seen a ghost or something much worse.   
  
“What...what are those?” Marc asked out of breath, looking rather agitated.   
He cradled his bleeding hand against his chest while walking back from the flowers which laid spread on the floor in a pool of broken glass. Bernd felt his throat go dry on the spot, that was definitely not the reaction he was expecting; he tried to steady his breathing.   
“Roses love...they’ve always been your favourite. You are still looking pretty tired, not very in the mood so I just...thought they would...forget it, I’m sorry…”   
He was speechless so he decided to just shut up and go to the bathroom to fetch a few things to treat Marc’s hand; at this point he was too tired and confused himself to even ask what had provoked such a reaction. _Whatever._   
  
During dinner Marc didn’t offer any explanation and Bernd was just too hurt to ask. When they got to bed that night, Marc tried to apologize but Bernd let him know everything was fine; it was just flowers right? He put the light out and didn’t even try to cuddle his boyfriend. Maybe he needed space, right? So he was gonna have it.   
  
The next morning things took an unexpected turn; it was actually Bernd who woke up feeling really nauseous and he barely had time to reach the sink when he felt the bile reach his tongue. He got sick a couple of times in the next few minutes until his empty stomach just couldn’t keep going; weak and exhausted, he brushed his teeth and made himself a ginger infusion that poured in his keep cup before he made his way out the door. The day after, he woke up the same way, fuck, stress had gone to his stomach again and was ravaging him from the very first minute of the day. When he was making his traditional ginger drink, his phone rang: it was his brother. He considered not picking up but they hadn’t spoken in a while and he thought he could make with a bit of cheering up.   
“Hi bro” the smiley voice of his brother felt like a little ray of sunshine in his stormy day   
“Hi” “How’s everything going?” _Do you really want to know?_ “Not too bad” The lie tasted bitter on Bernd’s tongue.   
“You ok? You don’t sound great”   
“Just a bit of an upset stomach...all good”   
“Oh...wow” “Wow what?”   
“This early in the morning?” “Is there anything special about it?” Asked Bernd innocently   
“Well bro…” Why was Daniel this happy about him being sick “Oh god”   
“What is it?” Bernd was confused, were they even in the same conversation?   
“Is there any chance that you…? You know…” His brother sounded excited; what was he getting for breakfast?   
“No I don’t know” Daniel smiled on the other end of the line. “Well it’s just...well you told me a few weeks ago that Marc and you were trying...you know..Is there any chance..that you?” Bernd wanted to scream. Oh fuck no, no it couldn’t be...he couldn’t be...right? “Bernd...are you still there? “Yes… still here...errmmm sorry...I have to go to training. Talk to you later”   
  
He hung up; what else could he do? Was there any chance that he was…? It was a bad joke. They had made love a few weeks before, the last time they had seen each other and it had been so good, so incredibly good. Of course sex with Marc was always amazing, but this last time had had something a little bit more special; he couldn’t exactly say what it was but he had felt closer to his boyfriend than ever; his lips sweeter, his body warmer, his caresses more intense. Maybe everything had felt heightened because life knew it was their last time. He distractedly caressed his stomach before storming through the door trying not to take his upset stomach for something else. It just couldn’t be.   
  
_Last time they’d been together, it had been nothing short of magic. They had rented a little house in a dreamy village in literally the middle of nowhere, only surrounded by a few more houses, mountains and a good amount of snow; it was one of those places in which stars still shine at night and the moon looks close enough to touch it with your bare fingertips. They had spent their days walking around incredibly thick forests where the only thing they could hear was their ragged breaths and the contact of skin on skin every time they held hands. This whole time and place looked like a universe apart from the exhausting buzz of their busy daily lives and it really couldn’t feel any better._   
  
_Their last night had been wildly unforgettable. Bernd had been comfortably lying on the heaven of plushy pillows they had on their bed reading some Russian novel when he felt the bed dip between his legs; pretending he was not looking at him, he saw his boyfriend crawling to him in nothing but a white fluffy bathrobe._  
 _“Uhmm I missed you” Marc purred before leaving a kiss on his neck and snuggling against his side._  
 _“It’s been just 5 minutes babe” Bernd teased, his eyes not leaving the book_  
 _“Too long, I know…” Marc restarted kissing his neck with little pecks and warm caresses of his lips; Bernd was ready to close the book and throw it out the window but he loved playing hard to get. “I’m reading love..”_  
 _Marc got back up on his knees and gave a sharp tug to the belt of his bathrobe; it opened slowly offering a mouthwatering image of taut muscle enveloped by sun-kissed skin; the bathrobe slid down Marc’s still slightly wet skin and landed on the floor with a soft thud. Bernd closed his book and stared right at his boyfriend’s gorgeous body, after all this time together his insides still tingled in anticipation at seeing his man naked._  
  
 _They made love 2...3 times that night, switching roles and positions. Bernd’s ears rang with the melting sound of Marc’s delicious moans, he was so incredibly good in bed, so generous and so receptive at the same time. The night escaped in a whirlwind of small pecks and passionate kisses, of sweet caresses and intense bites, of little confessions and big declarations. Being inside of Marc was a unique sensation, so warm, and tight, and willing; having Marc between his thighs was like floating in a heaven of want and need followed by a unique whip of intense pleasure that ripped him open for everyone to see._  
  
 _They only fell asleep when the sun started to peek from behind the mountains and the separation day threatened to arrive. They still had a good few hours together and they would make sure to make good use of them._  
  
Two days later, Bernd’s phone rang at an ungodly hour in the morning, definitely too early to be awake.   
“So..did you take the test” His brother asked excited from the other end of the line   
“What test?” Asked Bernd, realizing it was still indeed too early for his brain   
“The driving test! What test do you think?” His brother retorted   
“No...no, I haven’t yet” Bernd replied uncomfortably   
“Is there anything wrong? You don’t sound very excited?” Daniel sound a little concerned   
“No.. it’s just...Marc’s here…”   
“But that’s great bro” When Bernd didn’t reply, his brother realized that indeed something was off “Isn’t it?”   
“No yeah...uhm...I don’t know Dan it’s just been a bit difficult lately…”   
“How’s that? Your man’s visiting you...fuck football”   
“It’s not football, I mean Marc...our relationship” Bernd exhaled loudly and rubbed his forehead “I don’t know…”   
“Ok bro, breath. What is it?” “I don’t know it’s just...Marc’s been exhausted since he arrived; he has barely smiled, he looks distracted and constantly on edge...I thought we were ok but…”   
“The situation at Barcelona is been a bit difficult lately, just give him time to rest and he’ll be ok”   
“I thought so too, but the more I seem to try and make it better, easier for him, the more disgusted he looks, the more he pushes me away”   
“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. Have you tried to talk to him? Look, if he didn’t want to be there, he wouldn’t be…”  
“I have tried to ask a few times but...he just says he is tired and that’s it...nothing else..but there needs to be something else, I am sure I am missing something”   
“Give him a lot of love and let him rest, but talk to him Bernd, just sit down, calmly, and I am sure that if there is anything bothering him he will tell you…”   
“I can’t believe I never saw this coming…” Bernd sounded rather deflated   
“Nothing’s lost bro, just try to talk to him one more time”   
“What if there is nothing between us anymore?”   
“Why would he be there if he doesn’t want to be with you? "  
“I don’t know...to break up?” “Right...and what is he waiting for then?”   
“I don’t know….” “Bro really talk to him, at least you will know what’s going on and…” his brother swallowed with difficulty “and if you guys can’t be together anymore, it will be ok, I promise, and we will be there for you ok? But I am sure everything will be ok, just talk to him. Promise?”   
“I promise”   
“I send you a big hug; let me know how it goes”   
“I will. Thanks for listening”   
“Anytime. Love you”   
“Love you too.”   
Trying one more time wouldn’t hurt anyone right? Bernd texted Marc with the spur of the moment:   
  
_Hi love, I think we need to talk. If you fancy, I’ll be in that cafe you love, at the corner of my street, after training. I’ll meet you there. Love you._   
  
Marc didn’t show up.


	2. Who's them?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernd discovers the reason behind Marc's weird behaviour

The room felt warm, too warm even, considering it was a crude winter outside and the air was nothing short of freezing. The air felt clammy and thick, rather unbreathable. Marc woke up feeling massively disorientated and for a good few seconds he barely moved, barely breathed at all. His eyelids felt heavy, his tongue drier than sand; his whole body numb, drained of all energy, hardly alive. He tried to remember where he was, what had happened, but his brain would not respond. After making a massive effort, he managed to move one of his hands which bumped into something, or rather someone; he wanted to cry, after everything that had happened and he was still there.

“Bernd” he caressed his name with a whisper   
“No, my love” came the answer; a voice Marc could not recognise; cold sweat covered every inch of his skin “Bernd’s gone and he will not bother you anymore”.   
  
  
******   
  
1 week earlier

Things had gone fully out of control and Marc couldn’t take it anymore. After having spoken to his manager, he had given him his permission to pack his stuff and take a couple of weeks off; he was really trying to focus and perform at his best but the more he tried the least he achieved, the more he pushed himself, the more frustrated, angry and exhausted he ended. There was no point in dragging the situation any longer so he made his mind up and caught the first flight to the only place where he would feel better.  
  
As soon as he saw his boyfriend, he felt like crying in relief. The minute Bernd enveloped in his arms and covered him in kisses and caresses, every worry in the world disappeared, every weight from his shoulders, lifted. Marc let him guide him, pour him some tea, hug him some more, kiss him everywhere, touch him, love him. He felt surrounded by so much love that everything else simply vanished.

The solution seemed to be temporary since, after just one day of being together, Marc started feeling terrible again. He tried to shake his thoughts out of his mind but to no avail. Often he would realise Bernd was talking to him only when it was too late and he had already missed half of what his boyfriend had said. He had tried to smile, he had really tried, but he knew the smile was not reaching his eyes and was flying away from his lips too quickly to be a genuine one. He felt exhausted and on edge, tired beyond belief and for no good reason. And then there was Bernd, the look of concern in his gorgeous features was literally killing him. On the phone, it had been rather easy to conceal how much of a shit time he was having, however, face to face, was proving a real challenge.

Bernd was always trying to make him feel at ease; to make him smile and laugh; to make him comfortable; to make him feel loved, heard and understood; and what was he giving back? Nothing but silence and apparent indifference. He had tried so many times to talk to him and tell him the truth, but somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to do it; he knew it would worry him for probably nothing and he really didn’t want to put him through it. Marc was fully convinced it would only be a few days, a few days of rest, fully disconnected from everything and things would go back to normal for him and between them.

They had been sharing a bed for 3 nights now and more than a few centimetres it seemed that a whole world was separating them. He had craved intimacy with his gorgeous boyfriend like a starved man, funny thing was that now that he was literally lying next to him, he felt incapable of doing anything but sleeping. He was feeling so anxious that didn’t think himself capable of opening his body and soul to the beautiful man next to him; he was sure that the moment Bernd laid a finger on him, all the messages and calls would come flooding to his mind making him cry desperately; he resolved himself not to let that happen by any means. At some point they would stop calling him, messaging him, and everything would be fine again. He knew he was hurting Bernd then again; it was not the lack of sex, but the lack of trust and communication what seemed to be putting a strain in their relationship and he was fully aware his boyfriend had started noticing something was off but he was still trying to pretend everything was ok. Every night they would go to bed at the same time; Bernd had tried to hug him a few times, maybe trying to initiate something, maybe just trying to let him know he was there; Marc had tried to avoid any physical contact as nonchalantly as possible, giving him a quick peck on the lips and turning his back to him, pretending he was going to sleep. He wasn’t. He hadn’t slept less in his life; constantly moving and turning to the point of desperation, incapable of ignoring the heavy pain his rejection was inflicting on Bernd.

During his time in London the messages and calls hadn’t stopped; he had tried changing his phone number a good few times, but they kept contacting him. At some point he had tried to smash the phone against the floor, but the bastard had bounced back against some towels and lied on the floor intact. And then the flowers came. One evening, he had come home after a not-so-relaxing walk around the neighbourhood when he saw them; a beautiful bouquet of red roses. It felt like everything was happening all over again; a strong bout of nausea overtook his stomach and he pushed the flower jar to the floor with all his might; only when he saw Bernd’s panicked expression he realised what had happened; only when he saw his bleeding hand he realised this needed to stop.

I _t all had started in the most innocent of ways. Marc was finishing some bowl of fruit while distractingly checking his instagram when he realised he had got a bit of an overeager fan. Someone had taken their time to go over almost every single post he had ever made to leave a comment; the particularity of them was that, the newest the comment the more personal it got. At the beginning he didn’t give it a lot of importance, after all it was not the first over excited fan he encountered in his career, the issue here was though that the more comments he received, the more uneasy he felt. Who was that person? And why were they so interested in him as to leave him so many comments?_

_Every day there was a new comment, or two, or ten, depending on the amount of pictures or posts Marc decided to make that day. At some point he started to publish less and less trying to dissuade his secret admirer of keeping up with their messages. Without any posts to comment, his fan seemed to have found another way to keep in touch so the text messages began. The first few texts had been rather innocent although Marc had had enough and decided to change his phone number; this didn’t seem to dissuade his admirer, who, somehow, got his new number and kept sending messages, only that this time they were far more intrusive and uncomfortable. He never responded to any of the messages so the messages turned into calls; calls in the morning, during training, at ungodly hours at night. More than once he would miss Bernd’s calls as he had his phone in silence, trying to ignore all the unwanted contacts._

_One morning he had arrived in training and some member of the staff let him know there was something for him. With a tinge of doubt and suspecting it was all a joke, he made his way to the changing room only to discover a small bouquet of red roses on his bench: Bernd had really overdone himself that time, he decided he was so gonna propose the next time he would see him. When checking the little card hidden among the flowers, he realized it was not signed, so much for discretion, he thought with a massive smile on his lips. His happiness was short lived though, that same night he received a text from the unknown number asking him if he had liked the flowers; he chucked them in the bin as if they were poisonous. The week after he received another bouquet of flowers, bigger and more impressive than the first one, Piqué had made a joke about someone loving him very much or having a lot of apologising to do, he gave him the death stare and threw the roses in his face. Piqué stayed quiet afterwards; they trained like every other day and, once finished, he discretely took Marc to some room to find out what had him so unlike himself. Marc tried to brush it off saying it was nothing until thanks to the insistence of his teammate and friend he ended up breaking down and confessing everything that was going on. Piqué had insisted about involving the police but Marc being Marc reassured him that everything was ok and that they would get tired at some point. When Marc start_ _ed receiving unwanted presents at his own place, he decided to talk to his coach and made his way to London without a second thought._

_Bernd had texted him to let him know he would be at his favourite cafe after training so he grabbed his keys and made his way to meet him._

After waiting for more than an hour, Bernd finally understood Marc was not gonna come and decided to make his way home. His phone rang angry on his pocket and he picked up as if his life depended on it; at first, he didn’t recognise the voice on the other end of the line until Piqué introduced himself; _why was he calling him?_

“Is Marc there with you?” Asked Piqué trying to sound calm   
"He’s in London with me, yes” Bernd replied annoyed; _what did he care?_   
“Can you tell him to pick up his phone? I have been trying to call him for a good few hours but I have not been able to locate him”   
Bernd was starting to get worried; why would Piqué call him so concerned about Marc if he knew he was here with him? “Is there something wrong? Why would you be so worried as to call me after having tried to call him for just a few hours?”   
“No, everything’s fine….just…”   
“Just?”   
“No, nothing”   
“You wouldn’t be calling me if it was nothing. I would really appreciate it if you would stop taking me for a fool and would tell me the truth. What’s going on?” Bernd had definitely ran out of patience   
“I promised Marc…”   
“Marc’s not here” Bernd cut   
“Where is he?” Piqué sounded uncomfortable   
“What is it to you? What’s going on?” _Are these two together and I am missing something?_   
Piqué exhaled loudly “He’s going to kill me but…”   
“It’s gonna be either him or me, so I’d suggest that you tell me before…”

Bernd hadn’t finished his sentence when he felt his blood freeze; Marc had a stalker.


End file.
